


Purple is not the answer

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [295]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:06:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint is sick and he's not wearing his hearing aids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple is not the answer

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 

Clint groaned as he got out of bed. 

He felt horrible and probably looked just as horrible. He turned back to the bed only to find it empty. Oh, right. Phil is at HQ. He said something about having to stay there for a few hours to get all the paperwork for the last mission filed. He also said something about resting and not getting out of bed.

Clint was pretty sure that that was a suggestion rather than an order though, so with a blanket cocoon, Clint made his way to the communal kitchen where someone is sure to be awake to help him get something in his stomach; you know, before he threw it all up again an hour later… probably.

Luckily for him, it seemed like the rest of the team was awake bright and early. Steve, Tony, and Sam were arguing over something in hushed tones, Vision, Wanda and Natasha were also whispering, Bruce, and Rhodey were quietly eating their breakfast exchanging a few whispered words, and Thor was waiting for the toaster to spit out the pop tarts. All in all, they all looked like they were conspiring. Like cliques at war in High School TV shows. 

Clint sat in one of the chairs and promptly lay his head on the table. Let them whisper their conspiring ideas. Clint was too sick to participate. He just wanted something in his tummy so he could go back to bed but this was the farthest he could go and now he just wanted to sleep. Maybe he should’ve just ignored his stomach. If he did, he wouldn’t have to be in this hell right now. 

Someone tapped his shoulder and Clint rolled his head sideways, so he could at least see the person. It was Sam. Sam is a nice guy. He saved Clint that one time during that mission with the things and ugh. Thinking hurts. Point is, Sam is a great guy. And any other time, Clint would be happy to converse in mindless chitchat with Sam about stocks or the weather or whatever it is Sams talk about. As the case may be, Clint just wanted to go back to bed. 

Sam also appears to be talking to Clint. Either that, or he’s just flapping his mouth open and close for some bizarre reason. When Sam seemed like he was finished talking, he looked like he was waiting for a reply, so Clint did the polite thing to do and mumbled an answer. 

“Purple.” He wasn’t really sure what the question had been but he hoped he answered right. 

By the way Sam’s face scrunched up in confusion, Clint guessed he didn’t. 

And then, as if sensing Clint’s distress, Phil was there to save the day. He pat Sam’s shoulder and softly pushed him away. Clint smiled up at him groggily and it was reciprocated with an exasperated sigh. ‘CLINT, I thought I told you to stay in bed?’ Phil signed.

Clint shrugged. “I was hungry.”

‘You should’ve asked JARVIS to tell the others.’

“I thought I could do it on my own.” He said, face still smooshed against the table. 

‘Where’s your hearing aid?’ 

“Bed side table. It was hurting my ear.”

Phil sighed. ‘Okay. Why don’t I take you back to bed and then I can bring you chicken soup. Is that okay?’

Clint nodded, then with the last of his strength, Clint raised his arms toward Phil. “Carry me.”

He said something to the others and Natasha stood up. Phil then leaned down to pick Clint up, while Natasha folded the sheet cocoon that Clint had dragged down to the kitchen.

—

Phil returned to the kitchen with Natasha in tow. Bruce has kindly started with the chicken soup and the rest were cleaning up the mess they made during breakfast.

“So…” Tony started when Phil relieved Bruce of cooking duty. “Is Barton deaf?”

“You tell me, you’re the genius.” Phil smirked at him.

“Okay, sassypants. I was just trying to open up the conversation.” Tony rolled his eyes at him.

“He wasn’t wearing his hearing aid when he got out of bed.” Phil said in way of explanation.

“That would explain why he answered Purple when I asked him what time Dog Cops air.” Sam thought out loud.

“What about during missions? We use the comms. How does he get by then?” Rhodey asked.

“SHIELD has developed a comm specifically for him.” 

“Did you know about this?” Steve asked Natasha.

“I just thought that he had really terrible hearing. Maybe the eyesight thing is a form of compensation. I didn’t actually think he needed hearing aids.”

“Well, now you know.” Phil said, scooping a ladle full of chicken soup into a bowl. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to bring this to Clint before he starts to wander the tower again.”

The Avengers knew fairly well how big of a possibility that was.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/128477718391/i-pulled-my-friend-into-the-merlin-fandom-she)


End file.
